Fall Of The Bride
by Skuldakn
Summary: After the Warden killed The Mother and The Architect, he thought his problems were over. But when he is sent into a year-long coma, Valtin Cousland knows that all is not well. Now, he must face not only a threat to him and his allies, but to the Maker himself. But can a mere man fight against something even a god fears?
1. Chapter 1

_**Dragon Age: Fall Of The Bride**_

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_[A/N: So, here's a new book. It is one of two I have planned, and is something I did because I could. I love Dragon Age (Origins is the best game I have ever played) and I wanted to make my own contribution to the world of Thedas. Characters will be mentioned, used, as will my own created characters. This is what happened to the Warden after the defeat of the Architect and the Mother. Enjoy!]_

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**Chapter One**

"Ready," I whispered to my troops. Finally, after months of hunting, we finally caught the last Disciple.

"Sodding chatty bastards end today!" Oghren, my most faithful friend, chuckled to himself as he wobbled in the brush behind me. I glanced over to Velanna, a questioning look in my eyes.

"Do not look at me. I cannot get between him and a cask of ale." The Dalish elf sniffed. Despite her attitude I knew she liked Oghren. They would watch each others backs. I looked back to the clearing the darkspawn had stopped in. The Disciple we were hunting, self-named The Last, stood in the centre. It waved it's arms and growled at the few hurlocks and genlocks surrounding it. I glanced to the other end of the clearing, where Sigrunn waited with another twenty men, four of which were Wardens. I got her attention through a mirror, reflecting light on her face. When I was sure she was watching I raised my fist and clenched it twice. Sigrunn nodded, obeying the order to wait. I turned back to my own squad, Velanna, Oghren, two newer Wardens and eight Amaranthine soldiers. I grinned to myself. It was nice to actually have my own soldiers, instead of just a motley group of seven or eight.

"Commander, we're done!" Two more soldiers appeared from the darkness. The buckets that had once held a very flammable substance were now empty.

"Excellent." I held their shoulders and gave them a quick shake. "Get ready for the charge."

"Val, we have a problem." Oghren grabbed my forearm. The dwarf spun me around and pointed to the edge of a clearing. My eyes widened as I saw what he did. An ogre, not the biggest I'd fought but big nonetheless, marched out of the darkness near Sigrunn's group. I saw writhing bodies in the monster's hands and my heart fell. How had I not even heard the fight?

"We need to get Sigrunn out of there!" I hissed to Velanna. She shook her head quietly.

"It is not Sigrunn." She whispered. I looked back and saw that she was right. Instead of armoured soldiers or a dwarf, both figures were unarmoured farmers. A man and a woman. The Last grunted at the ogre and the farmers were set down in the centre. Another genlock waddled up to them and deposited a girl of no more than thirteen. She had a torn dress and her face was caked with tears and mud. Her parents didn't look to much better. The Last stared hard at them. Then he turned on his heel, drew his massive warhammer and roared at the forest, almost looking directly at us.

"WAAAAAAARDEN! I know you are out there! I can sense you! Come out, or watch them die!" The Last beat his chest, guttural screams coming from the rest of the darkspawn. The farmer had a look on his face that chilled my blood as I saw it. The fool moved in front of his family and spat at The Last.

"If the Wardens are truly here, they'll kill you." He nearly whimpered as The Last turned to face him. "Talking darkspawn or not." He gulped.

"Really?" The Last's voice slithered out of his throat like a serpent. "Perhaps your bodies might be a better message?" I didn't wait to see if The Last raised his blade. I let out a battle cry, unslinging my shield and drawing my sword, Vigilance. Velanna took this as her signal, spinning her staff and letting a bolt of fire fly towards our trap. The darkspawn watched in puzzled awe as the small comet flew over their heads. The awe turned to panic as the liquid I bought from the Nevarran merchants ignited, a massive wall of fire spreading to encase the darkspawn.

"No! Fight!" The Last screamed. I ignored the heat as I rushed forwards, my blood boiling. I followed Oghren's advice in my rage, turning it into a weapon to wield against my enemies. I felt a small amount of pride in the back of my head, hoping the berserker was watching. Through the slits of my warhelm I saw the farmer and his family scramble away from he as I launched myself through the wall of blazing death. Thinking back on that moment, I can realize the mistake I made. I panicked and tried to save the family, but in my haste I rushed in like someone possessed by a demon. My armour, once worn by the Anderfels soldier who slew Dumat, exemplified the flames with it's black and red colouring. My shield had been specially crafted by Wade, the greatest armoursmith in the land of Thedas in my opinion. It shared the material and colouring of my armour, the only difference in that I had the symbol of the Grey Wardens blazed on it. What I remember from that fight was a catastrophic slaughter. I had signaled Velanna to early in my haste, so only Oghren and I had made it into the circle of flames. Only about three of my soldiers, two of them Wardens, had brought bows, so they and Velanna rained as much death as they could upon the darkspawn. They had once outnumbered my warband by about eighteen, but they were quickly whittled down. I remember Oghren rushing towards the ogre, spinning that giant axe of his in a ring of destruction. He cut down a huge crowd of darkspawn in the time it took for me to close the distance between myself and the guards of The Last. Oghren hammered at the knee of the last darkspawn in his way, bringing the grotesque head down to his level. Not breaking stride, the dwarf dove into it headfirst. His momentum and weight crushed the darkspawn's skull, leaving a disgusting red and pink goop of Oghren's helm. Unfortunately, the ogre had waited for just an opportunity as Oghren slowed. The beast swung it's massive fist, catching Oghren in the side of his head. I watched my friend sail away past me and I screeched to a halt. Raising my shield towards the darkspawn I watched with horror as Oghren slid across the dirt towards the barrier.

"Stop!" I shouted fruitlessly. But apparently the Maker had a plan for the angry dwarf. A darkspawn was blasted in the chest by a strike of lightning from Velanna and it's smoking body fell directly in the path of Oghren. I almost didn't see the darkspawn stop Oghren just before he hit the fire, because The Last had chosen this time to push past his guards and attack me.

"DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE!" He nearly squealed with delight as he hammered on my shield. I hated the Disciples. I was going to be very happy when there were no more talking darkspawn.

"You first!" I roared back. I rushed forwards and swung my shield up with all my might. Just as I'd hoped, The Last had stepped back and left his chin open. The edge of my shield slammed squarely into his neck. The Disciple went reeling back to his guards, choking on his own blood. Smelling the blood of their own, the genlocks shouted their own war cries and rushed me. The first one came at me from the left while the second ran headlong towards the right. Using the skills I had learned from Zevran during the Blight, I slipped out a small thin dagger and spun it towards the retreating genlock. The throwing knife planted itself cleanly into the creatures spine, sending it to the ground. This allowed me to focus on the first genlock. It had no shield and only carried a small, jagged sword.

"Too easy." I barked out a laugh. As the genlock came in range I swung my leg out in a wicked kick, made worse by the fact that my boot was made of solid metal. I caught it full on the the chest, and I heard a very distinctive cracking sound. The little thing fell to the ground and made a squishy wheezing sound.

"Stop that!" I growled, shoving my sword into it's brain. Just as I pulled Vigilance from the bald green head a shadow loomed over me. I had just enough time to think _'Oh shit!' _before I leapt to the ground. The ogre's fist, meant to swipe me up and most likely deposit me into it's open maw simply swept over my head safely. I slashed at it quickly and missed. The ogre roared again and lunged. With an expression of panic etched on my face, I dove to the side, letting the ogre slam into a hurlock that had snuck up behind me. The darkspawn went down under the blue mass with a sickening crunch. Taking my chances I jumped in and stabbed and slashed, withdrawing quickly when the ogre stood tall. We repeated this process several times, but the ogre was too strong to go down with only a few pinpricks. Finally, after the ninth or tenth time the ogre stayed dow longer than usual. With the ogre slowly picking itself up I saw my chance. Rushing towards the opportunity, I dropped my shield and charged the ogre. I neared the monster leapt up, jamming Vigilance into the beast's meaty thigh and using the ogre's subsequent lurch of pain to pull me off the ground. As I flew up, I hooked my feet on top of it's knee and pushed off, sending me up towards it's head. _'Thank you Wade,'_ I thought as I sliced Vigilance through the ogre's head, going through bone and flesh. Vigilance cut clean through it, and it fell to the ground in a heap. A very inglorious and quick kill, but I had no time for stories. I'll let Oghren make up a story of me killing it next time he get's drunk in Amaranthine. I landed as gracefully as one might expect a heavily-armoured man just launched from an ogre might. As in I crashed. Hard. I heard a snapping sound and felt pain in my right forearm. I rolled to a stop not far from the farmer and his family.

"Gah!" I gasped as I pushed myself up. "Fractured, not broken. Ooh, yeah, like that's any better." I moaned. Looking at it, I could clearly see that my shoulder had become dislocated. Hating what I was about to do, I reached up towards it.

"Rrrrgh!" I growled as I felt the cold rush as I shoved my arm back into position. "Why did I ever have to learn how to do that?" I asked myself as I sat up. My self pity was over when I heard the woman cry out and the man scream in pain. I spun to face them and saw The Last holding the girl, the woman kneeling over the man. The Last had taken my knife from the body of the genlock and shoved it into the man's thigh.

"That was your last mistake." I growled, reaching to my back and drawing Starfang. I had once offered this blade to Alistair, but he refused and said his father's blade was good enough. I often wondered if it was a statement to a dead man about Alistair's worth. It hurt to hold Starfang in my right arm, and I wasn't as skilled in duel wielding as I liked. While I started as a left-handed fighter and used it to surprise many enemies, I was now ambidextrous. It was still a great challenge to force myself to fight right-handed.

"I'll kill girl! I do it!" The Last's speech betrayed it's rage and panic. I knew he would though, and he and I began circling each other. I couldn't go near for fear of him killing the child and it couldn't leave because of the wall of fire. Luckily, I didn't have to solve that problem. Cander, a Marcher and one of my newer Wardens who was skilled in archery solved it for me. An arrow with his special white feather tail spat out of the darkness and embedded itself into The Last's arm holding the girl. As it lurched back in pain the girl was dropped from it's grasp. With a look of fear at both the darkspawn and myself she scurried off.

"Now you die." I grinned evilly under my helm. I stopped grinning when The Last shot forwards and punched me in the chest, knocking me to the ground and sending my helm flying off.

"Hate Wardens! Kill Wardens! Kill! Kill elf!" The Last spun his warhammer over his head and shrieked his war cry again.

"What elf you bastard!" I shouted back. The only elf I had brought with me was Velanna. I had three elf Wardens, all of them women. I didn't want to try and risk losing the fight and therefore dooming them to a life of birthing darkspawn, so I had ordered them to stay. I needed Velanna's magic though, so when she had demanded to come I had caved. Sigrunn had also used my surrender as an excuse, so now I needed to win.

"The elf!" The Last put emphasis on the word 'the', as if I would know who he meant. "Kill him, and you!" With that, The Last charged.

'Blast!" I cursed as I dodged an overhead strike. I could not parry or block, as I had no shield and it would break the rest of the bones in both my arms. But as the darkspawn and I met with ferocious blows I noticed something. The Last had white foam dripping down it's mouth, like rabies. It's eyes betrayed panic and fear. When I saw an opening to behead the monster I took it. Unfortunately for me The Last saw it coming and gave me a quick kick to the groin.

"Thank the Maker for armour!" I groaned as I stumbled back. The darkspawn roared again, the white foam flying out of it's mouth towards my face. It splattered full on, it's smell and taste disgusting.

"Darkspawn spit." I gagged. During the Blight I had almost been eaten by an ogre, and was halfway in it's mouth when it was killed. I had a far too intimate meeting with darkspawn saliva then, and I never wanted to again. But then it hit me. It wasn't a disease. The Last was spitting. This was not The Last that I remembered. The strongest of the Architect's Disciples, and a cunning one at that. It had more control than I'd known some humans to have. Something very bad must have happened for him to be reduced to a slobbering maniac. I was forced back yet again by the monster, swinging his hammer in a way no sane warrior would. Unfortunately I stepped right into the remains of a genlock, and the darkspawn body tripped me as The Last shoved forwards. I hit the ground softly, surprisingly. I rolled slightly to take the impact off my arm, and that left me open.

"Shit!" I screamed in pain as The Last crushed my right arm under his warhammer. It raised it well over it's head with what I thought was a sneer. I couldn't see clearly, tears forming in my eyes and pain bringing stars into my vision.

"KILL!" It thundered. Before he could bring death down on my head, I kicked out towards where I hoped it's legs were. I connected with something soft, hard. I saw the shape of the darkspawn fall back with a small cry. I wiped my eyes quickly and saw The Last scrambling on the ground towards it's warhammer. I looked down at my feet and grinned.

"Not so tough now eh!" I laughed at it. The Last stopped his scraping on the ground and glared up at my. I pointed down in the most comical way I could. It looked down, and saw me standing on it's weapon. It looked back up to my face and grinned back. My grin vanished when I saw a wickedly serrated darkspawn sword in one hand and Starfang in the other. I stumbled back when it jumped to it's feet, swinging Starfang over it's head and pointing the darkspawn sword at me. I scanned the battlefield for Vigilance. I couldn't fight with the warhammer or any of the incredibly small genlock weapons. Luckily, I spotted my sword. Unluckily, it was three feet behind The Last. And every good sized sword was even further than that.

"Damn." I whispered. I tried to stand tall, but a spike of pain put me back into a slouch. I held my broken arm, seeing where my armour was damaged. To my intense and forever-lasting gratitude, the Sentinel's Plate was not bent in the least. Wade had done his work well. I on the other hand, was still doing my work.

"Waaaaaaaaaaaaarden," The Last cackled. "Come!" The darkspawn stalked towards me, a predatory gleam in it's eyes. I glared back at it, letting go of my broken arm and kneeling down. Just as I expected, The Last took this as a surrender and ran headlong towards me like any mindless hurlock in the Deep Roads.

"Archers!" I roared towards the darkness where I knew Sigrunn would have positioned her men. They hadn't fired so far, most likely orders not to so that they wouldn't hit me. But at my own personal order, three arrows flew straight and true out of the forest, pinning themselves into important parts of The Last. I raised my hand and made a zero, signaling them to stop.

"Still want to go?" I asked smugly. The Last had an arrow in it's ankle,it's waist and it's left shoulder. The darkspawn dropped Starfang, most likely losing feeling in it's arm. It had a defeated look for just a moment before a snarl replaced it.

"I AM NOT DEFEATED!" It screamed to the heavens, the first coherent words it'd spoken the entire battle. The Last spun back to face me and charged yet again. Thinking quickly, I hooked my foot under the warhammer and flipped it up into my hand. I would not be able to use it in battle, but I could use it as a distraction. Once the long handle was in my hand I spun in a circle, like I'd seen the massive tree-throwers do. Those burly men had taken entire logs and picked them up like they were nothing. They would then spin in a quick circle and hurl the log as far as they could. I'd seen one throw it nearly fifteen meters. I didn't have the throw it that far, I just had to throw it at The Last. Finishing my spin I let go of the hilt, allowing my momentum to send the warhammer crashing right into the stomach of The Last. The darkspawn stopped immediately, flopping into the air like it'd run into a bar. The Last fell back onto the ground, and with a wet squeaking sound the arrows in it's waist and shoulder were pushed up through it's body. I watched with no feelings whatsoever as the metal points shot out of the monster's flesh. For a moment there I honestly thought it was dead, but the thing lurched back up to it's feet.

"How many damn times do you have to go down before you stay down!" I yelled at it. It merely hissed and waddled over to the centre of it's camp. The farmer and his wife had taken refuge there, and when they saw The Last coming towards them they shrieked and rushed towards me. The Last grabbed a blanket covered in blood and a bucket full of water. It was only now that I saw the dead body of a man in leather armour lying dead on the ground. This was his camp, that was why the darkspawn had so many things. I stumbled after The Last, intending to kill it once and for all. Before I could, the darkspawn tossed the water over the fire, momentarily putting it out. But before the liquid could re-ignite The Last tossed the blanket over it, the wet blood stifling any flame.

"Velanna!" I called out. Sure enough, the mage sent a spike of ice spiraling towards The Last. The shard tore through what was left of the darkspawn's wounded arm and sheared it from the main body entirely. The Last screamed an ungodly sound and broke into a sprint. I followed suit, grimacing in pain. We easily stripped past the soldiers and onto the road The Last had been attacking. I knew I had to kill him now, but I was quickly running out of energy and losing blood from my wounds.

"No . . ." I croaked as I fell to my knees. I hadn't noticed, but my crushed arm was also bleeding far heavier than I had realized. I watched The Last stop on the road and look back at me. He was only three meters away, but that might as well have been an entire league. The darkspawn opened it's mouth to laugh . . .

And immediately started choking on blood as a long, thin blade stabbed through it's neck. The Last scraped at it's throat for few futile moments, then slid to the ground in a heap. Standing over it was a very familiar sight. An elf with long blond hair, deep brown hair and brown facial tattoos. The signature leather armour with white symbols stood out on the dark night.

"Now now now, my friend." Zevran Arainai chuckled as he strutted towards me. "What would the Archdemon say if he knew the man who killed him could not even outrun a fatally wounded hurlock."

"Shut up Zev." I chuckled as he helped me to my feet. My Wardens had finally caught up.

"We left the soldiers to clean the mess. We brought Dorin." Sigrunn said breathlessly. Dorin was another Warden, a mage being trained in the art of healing by Anders.

"Good." I grunted, letting the boy focus on my arm. "We have a lot to discuss."


	2. Chapter 2

_[A/N: So, this is officially my longest chapter ever. And I am very happy about that. This would have been longer, but I decided to split this part into two or three chapters. Now for my news._

_I have decided on cultures I am basing the nations of Thedas on:_

_Ferelden: Canada/US_

_Free Marches: Canada/US_

_Rivain: Moorish Spain_

_Tevinter: Rome_

_Anderfels: Germany_

_Orlais: France_

_Antiva: Italy_

_Nevarra: Greece_

_That's all. K bye!]_

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_**Chapter Two**_

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"Tell me, _amico mio_, how is the family?" Zevran chuckled as he helped me back to the camp. He spoke of how Wardens considered themselves all brothers and sisters.

"Good." I grunted. "So I take it you're the elf the darkspawn were so scared of?"

"Oh yes, that was me. Couldn't resist. The big one with a warhammer squawked like a chicken and ran like one too!" Zevran and I shared a laugh. My left arm was slung over his shoulders, which were surprisingly sturdy. I'd never taken that offer of a massage, and I had no idea how strong Zevran really was. He'd never participated in Alistair, Oghren and my arm wrestling competitions. But then again, neither did Shale nor Sten. I winced in pain as a bolt of fire shot through my bones. I stared hard down at Dorin, walking beside us. Quite stocky, the boy was only about seventeen, and had to be made a Warden or die. He was an apostate who was constantly running. When he encountered darkspawn, he killed them. What he didn't know was that darkspawn carried the Taint. He'd taken samples of the monsters and gotten blood all over himself. Thus, he was infected. Sigrun and I had found him barely alive. He was rushed to Vigil's Keep, where Varel and I had made him a Warden. A damn good one too. But right now those warm fuzzy feelings were driven out with pain.

"My apologies Commander, but you are a fool." Dorin grinned at me. "You could have been killed, fighting that Disciple with one working arm. And your legs are starting to give out. Oh, you should know that Oghren's already started telling the tale of how you lost your arm to the ogre, then tore off a darkspawn's arm and put it in it's place. Right amazing, how that drunk can piece together a story." Sigrun burst into laughter, sharing it with Dorin.

"Ha ha, very funny. Where is he anyway?" I asked. Only Dorin, Sigrun and four soldiers had come.

"Oh, I sent them home. A few soldiers volunteered to keep the farmers safe until you came back, but Oghren and Velanna took the rest to the Keep. Your dog too." Sigrun continued smiling. I groaned.

"You do realize that we have diplomats coming to the Keep? And you just let Oghren go there with a story about me having a darkspawn arm!" I shouted dramatically. Of course, that just made my arm hurt. Dorin held it quickly and wrapped some tough fabric around it in a sling.

"At least tell me he left some horses?" I asked exasperatedly. Dorin nodded sagely.

"Alright, let's get going. So tell me Zevran, how's Antiva?" I asked, trying to take my thoughts of my arm. I had nearly been bitten in half by a High Dragon, I was covered in scars, but it had been so long since I was actually wounded badly. So my arm hurt a lot.

"Oh, Antiva is excellent! I met several nice and excellently shaped women, eager to participate is a wonderful massage! Also, did you know that the father of your brother's wife was a very important noble?" The elf said excitedly, putting far too much emphasis on the past tense. I gave him a weak smile.

"What do you mean, _was _an important noble?" I asked sweetly. I probably already knew the answer, but I wanted to hear how Zevran would spin the tale.

"Oh, he tried to have me killed because I assisted the brother of the barbarian who took his daughter. In his eyes, if the southern savages had not stolen away his precious child she would not have been killed." Zevran opened in his hands in a 'what can you do' gesture.

"He has a point there." I grunted. "I assume the Crows were only too happy to take the contract?"

"Oh, they were ecstatic. Then they were dead." Zevran grinned. "Then I found the signore and we had a talk. Problem solved." We shared a laugh. I probably would have clapped Zevran on the back, but I wasn't about to throw myself to the ground.

"Anything else? Preferably more pleasure, less stabbing." I managed.

"But I didn't stab anyone!" Zevran protested strongly. "In fact, no one died by my blade. All it took was tricking a few qunari mercenaries into attacking the Crows for me. For all their faults, the qunari are excellent warriors."

"Alright, alright." I nodded to him. "I fully believe that you are in no way culpable in the death of a squad of Crows and an Antivan noble. Are you satisfied?" I asked him in good humour. Zevran gave me a nod that would have been grave if not for his toothy smile.

"So, _amico mio_, I have told you of Antiva. What have you been doing in, Amaranthine is it?" Zevran asked.

"Yes, it's Amaranthine. You know, the usually. Killing bandits, dragons, demons and bad people in general. Oh, and there was a talking darkspawn."

"What?" Zevran hissed. His eyebrows raised, it was more curiosity than fear that fueled his question.

"Oh yeah, a few." I boasted, glad to have finally left the elf speechless. "They were given Grey Warden blood. It allowed them to resist the song of the Old Gods." Zevran nodded sagely.

"That would seem to give them an excuse for intelligence." He mumbled.

"They were led by an emissary named The Architect. He's dead now. But by all the gods of Thedas he was strong. I think we had an easier time killing the false Andraste. Ow!" I grunted in pain as Zevran stopped suddenly.

"Your camp is here?" He asked suddenly. I glanced around. We had made it back to the clearing Dorin and Sigrun said the farmers were waiting.

"Oh, don't worry." I smiled. "'I stand tall and proud, line of Calenhad!'" Sure enough, at the shouted passphrase my men showed themselves. I grinned at Zevran's surprised look. "You're not the only one skilled in subterfuge." I told him.

"But it is my specialty!" Zevran complained. I ignored his exaggerated look of insult and focused on my men. Cander, Brom and two soldiers had stayed. Brom was another Warden. An older man, he was the first of my newer Wardens. He wasn't a Senior Warden like Alistair, Sigrun, Velanna, Anders, Oghren or Nathaniel, but he acted like a father figure. He'd lost both his children to the Blight and wanted revenge. I accepted him gladly.

"My lord." Brom nodded as we entered the camp. He waved to the brush behind him and the farmers emerged, unscathed.

"For the last time, it's either Valtin or Commander. Come on Brom, you can get it." I nodded to him.

"Hey, why does Oghren get to call you Val?" Dorin asked, just a little bit whiny.

"Because Oghren has been with him for almost as long as I have. I also call your commander Val." Zevran explained to the youth. This left Dorin's mouth open wide.

"Wait! You're _that_ Zevran! Whoah!" Dorin's eyes bulged. He turned to the archer-Warden standing guard. "Cander! This is Zevran! The assassin who fought with the Commander!" Cander gave Zevran a salute and returned to his post. Shooting me a self-satisfied smirk, Zevran led me to a log that had just fallen, if the still-green leaves were any indication. He tried to set me down but I stopped him. Nudging Zevran, I got him to turn me to face the mage.

"Dorin. Rejuvenation." I ordered. Dorin bowed, downed a glowing blue lyrium potion from his belt, blinked his eyes and shook his head and casted the spell. I felt a wondrous surge of energy course through my body. and I extracted myself from Zevran's grasp. I felt so fresh I even ignored Dorin's wanton use of lyrium. We had so much of it from Kal'Hirol that he could use what he wanted. Dorin raised his hands again questioningly, a blue glow around them. I nodded to him and turned my injured arm towards him. As Dorin went to work I motioned to the farmer to come closer. Thankfully he did, his wife and daughter trailing behind.

"I am Valtin Cousland, Commander of the Grey of Ferelden." I introduced myself. The farmer was so shocked he fell to his knees and bowed. His wife merely held her daughter with wide eyes.

"The Hero of Ferelden! Oh by the Maker, thank you Lord Cousland!" The farmer cried out. I knelt down next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. The farmer stared up at me with tears in his eyes. Tears of joy I hoped.

"Stand tall." I told him. He obeyed, and we stood facing each other. As usual, I stood maybe a half head taller. It always made me seem intimidating, my friends had said.

"I am not royalty, nor am I nobility any longer. You owe me no homage. And my title is no longer 'lord'. It is Warden, Warden-Commander or just Commander." I explained to the man. He nodded, but I got the feeling my words went in one ear and out the other. "Just because my name is Cousland does not mean you need bow to me."

"But, you are an actual Cousland my lord? And do you not hold the arling?" The farmer's wife spoke up. I nodded to her.

"Aye. But as a Grey Warden, I forfeit all titles. That includes my noble name. And the arling is held by the Wardens in general, not just me."

"But my lord, is the King also a Grey Warden?" The wife asked again, a bit more suspiciously. This woman knew what she was talking about.

"Yes, Alistair is a Warden. However, Grey Wardens are sworn to fight the darkspawn by any means necessary, and if that includes the bastard of a king taking the throne to unite his country against the darkspawn, I accept it. Besides, can you think of another candidate that would have not led to civil war?" I shot back at her. Chastised, the woman looked down.

"No my lord."

"Do not think I am angry. You asked a question of extreme importance." The woman brightened at my words. Happy that the problem was solved, I turned back to the farmer who was beaming at his wife.

"Where were you going?" I inquired.

"Amaranthine my lor- Commander." The farmer corrected himself. This was good. I wouldn't have to escort them somewhere far away, then come back.

"I am heading to Vigil's Keep. I will take you there, then assign a man or two to escort you to the city. Is this agreeable?" I asked. The farmer nodded enthusiastically.

"Oh yes ser! Very good ser!"

"Excellent. Let us move. Sigrun!" I called for my current Senior Warden. The perky dwarf pulled herself away from a conversation with Brom and an Amaranthine soldier and sidled up to me.

"What'cha need Boss?" She asked innocently. I gave her a look and she shot me a wide grin.

"I need you to take another with you and scout ahead. We have three Wardens, me, you, Zevran and two soldiers. If there are any warbands left over I want to know long before they get to us." I gave her her orders swiftly. Sigrun saluted and scampered off, catching Cander's attention and taking him with her. _Bad idea, _I thought. _Two Wardens might be sensed by the darkspawn. _I let them go though. Too far away to stop them now. I moved to turn but Dorin held be back, still working on my arm.

"You seem to command the same level of respect and deference as during the Blight _amico mio_." Zevran chuckled behind him.

"Quiet you." I smiled softly. "The good old days eh?"

"Indeed." The elf said with more nostalgia than I'd thought him capable of. "Oh!" Zevran's eyes bulged. "I almost forgot! Our good friend the King has hired me."

"For what?" I asked, intrigued.

"His own personal assassin. What else?" Zevran waved his hand, shooing away my small grasp of the obvious. "As you well know, Nevarra and Orlais have very strained relations. This is not helped by the new ambassador to Nevarra, recently ambassador to Tantervale."

"And?" I pushed.

"Well, this ambassador has managed to anger everyone important in both those two areas in about a month each. So now there are threats of a military response to 'perceived' insults. The good King wants me to infiltrate and eliminate all those who might turn that anger on Ferelden."

"Let me get this straight: Orlais insulted them, and they think Ferelden is to blame." I muttered.

"Indeed." Zevran replied gravely. "Alistair wants to have me working among them. He's even thought of a name like the Shadows of the Empress."

"Well?" I asked. "What's the name?"

"Alistair's Blade. An agent that sneaks into their armour and bites at the flesh. Quite a good show for our dear friend."

"Ha! Good indeed!" I barked, clapping Zevran on the back. Then I roared in pain as Dorin snapped my arm back into position. "By the Maker!" I cursed.

"Don't worry Commander. It's done now." Dorin said, shaking his hands and stepping back.

"Good." I grunted. I raised my voice so all could hear me. "Move out! We should be back at Vigil's Keep by daybreak." Dorin waved to farmers to get up and Brom walked with them, talking with the young girl in hushed tones. As we went she would occasionally glance towards me. I ignored it for a while, but curiosity proved to great an opponent. I let my march slow down, and waited until I was within earshot and took a look at them.

"-and that's how he broke a siege with only three men." Brom said smugly. The farmer and his wife shared a smile and kept walking, but the girl was completely enraptured.

"What else did the Hero do!" She tugged on Brom's armour.

"I'm sorry, but I have only been told a few stories. You should ask the Commander if you want to know more." Brom told her sadly. The girl glanced at her father, and he motioned her towards me. I started walking again, hoping they hadn't seen me watching. If they had, they probably wouldn't think I was stroking my own ego. Which I wasn't.

"Excuse me." A small voice broke my thoughts. The girl had actually come up to ask me.

"Yes?" I asked her.

"Could you please tell me a story?" She made the big round eyes Solomon, my mabari, always made when he wanted food from someone.

"About what?" I knelt down to her level.

"You. Please." She requested.

"Hmm. I'm not that good at storytelling, but I might have one you'll like." I racked my mind for something. Most were too horrendous to tell a child, but I thought of one that might serve as a lesson as well. "I will tell you the story of how I met Flemeth."

"Flemeth!" The girl squeaked.

"Yes, the wicked Witch of the Wilds!" I waggled my fingers at her. "Do you know of Ostagar?"

"Yes, Father talks about it. He says that's where the King died."

"Aye, Cailan did die there. I almost did as well." I watched as the girl's eyes shone with questions. I kept talking to stave them off. "I went up a tower there with my friend Alistair, another Grey Warden. We were to light the tower beacon to signal the army to attack. Unfortunately . . . several things went wrong. I was nearly killed by darkspawn, and lost consciousness. When I awoke, and how lucky I am to have actually woken, I was in a hut. Standing over me was a woman I had met in the Wilds, a mage named Morrigan." The girl noticed my pained look when I said Morrigan's name. Smart.

"Who was she?" The girl asked.

"She was- is my friend." I corrected myself. "Anyways, Morrigan told me what happened, and I thanked her. She seemed surprised at that, and brought me out to see her mother. I had already met her mother, but I was now realizing the old woman was much more than meets the eye. She told me her name was Flemeth." I cleared my throat. "Flemeth had healed me and Alistair, and gave us the treaties necessary to get allies to fight the darkspawn. She also told Morrigan to go with us, to help us. We fought many battles, found new friends and allies. But Morrigan came to me with a concern. She had discovered how Flemeth was still alive after all these years: Flemeth would raise a girl, not her own, until she was beautiful and powerful. Then Flemeth would take control of the woman, allowing her to become young again."

"Did she steal Morrigan?!" The girl shrieked, scared now.

"No!" I grinned. "Morrigan had me help her. I went back to Flemeth's cabin and fought her for the book that had the ritual. I killed Flemeth and brought Morrigan the book. I haven't seen Flemeth since."

"Of course not." The girl scoffed. "She's dead."

"If only." I whispered. "If only." I looked down at her. "Why don't you talk to Brom? I'm sure he has more stories, just not about me." The girl gave me a hug and a smile and ran back to her family. She began speaking, but I was too far to hear.

"You have grown quite soft _amico mio_." Zevran chuckled, stepping in beside me. We took a few paces before I answered.

"What do you mean? I do not ever remember being mean to children." I shrugged.

"What I mean is, the warrior who the others tell me about would never have let me live. He would not have let the boy, Connor, live. He would not have let Loghain live. He would have let the Templars Annul the Circle Tower. When you and I met, I failed to kill you and you let me join you." Zevran took a deep breath.

"Aye, that I did." I said softly. "And we grew to become close friends."

"But, _amico mio_, I talked to Alistair and Leliana. You were quite unlikable when you met them. When I asked them how this stalwart and good soldier could be so cold-hearted, they told me something changed. Something that happened with the Dalish. Something in the room the werewolves took you, where you let no one else." He watched my eyes darken.

"I have not told anyone this. But I suppose I owe you some explanation, if only to sate your curiosity."

"Yes you do." Zevran crossed his arms and smiled with victory.

"Alright." I sucked in breath,readying for another story. "In the Brecilian Forest the Dalish were being attacked by werewolves. Through careful learning, I discovered that it was the Dalish Keeper, Zathrian's, fault. His family was murdered by a few humans, and he took his vengeance out on any humans who came near. I had no elves in my party at this time, so I took Solomon, Sten and Leliana. I figured they would be the least aggressive to elves. It worked, and we were allowed to try and help the 'poor' Dalish under attack by monsters. Of course, we weren't expecting the werewolves we encountered to talk. After that, we went straight back to Zathrian and I confronted him, alone. He made some excuses, and I vowed to find the wolves. Just not in the way he thought." I swallowed. "We did find them, and one wolf invited me in. Just me. Sten told me I was a fool, and Leliana was shocked. I convinced the wolf the let me take Solomon as well, and we entered the bowels of their home. Let me tell you, what I found was something I never thought I'd see. A spirit."

"So the wolves were controlled by a demon!"

"No! Not a demon. A spirit. The werewolves had named her the Lady of the Forest. She and I talked, and that's when Zathrian's treachery was revealed to me. I swore I would make him release them from the curse. I didn't know Zathrian had followed me there. He fought well, for a hundred year old bastard. When the Lady and I were victorious, Zathrian was convinced to reverse the curse he made. It killed both him and the Lady. I sent the wolves, now men and women and children, to Denerim. Last I heard they had taken a ship to Jader."

"I assume the Dalish weren't very happy with the disappearance of their Keeper." Zevran laughed. I shook my head, waving Sigrun away as she and Cander materialized from nowhere.

"He didn't disappear. I brought him back to the Dalish, so they could bury him. They weren't happy, but the new Keeper promised us their support. When we arrived back at our camp, I spent some time alone thinking. I realized that spending all my time consumed with vengeance would lead to nothing but sorrow. So, I turned myself around." I stared at Zevran, waiting for his reaction. He merely kept walking beside me, a supportive hand on my shoulder.

"Why did you ask?" I looked solemnly at the assassin.

"Because I like the kind you, the one who tells stories to small girls. I never followed the one who killed for vengeance, but I did not like him at all. But now I see a man who loved, who lived and wants to keep living. You used to inspire fear, and even Leliana was putout by you. I believe she even had a small crush that you quashed." The Antivan giggled.

"We are not children Zevran. People are attracted, so let them."

"Yes yes. But once you came out of that tent with Morrigan, you were very different. I like it. You are now the man who keeps watching for his love, one who won't give up. Even if it means periodically going to Flemeth's Hut every few months."

"How did you find out about that?!" I hissed. I'd never took anyone with me but Solomon, and I never told anyone but-

"Alistair." I growled. Zevran threw his head back and roared with laughter.

"Why you confide anything in that bumbling fool I will never know!"

"Careful." I wagged a finger. "You should not speak so poorly of the one paying you." Zevran's eyes widened in mock horror.

"I apologize oh lord!" Zevran wailed to the sky. "Hear me Alistair, and know my shame!"

"Hard to know something that doesn't exist." I clapped Zevran on the back.

"Touché my friend, touché." We walked beside each other in silence for the next hour or two, thankful of the lack of action. Well, at least I was. Zevran was astounded that there were no stupid bandits.

"You're several months too late for that my friend." I said as we approached Vigil's Keep. Zevran's sulking face went away as soon as he saw the Keep.

"_Magnifico _. . ." He breathed.

"The Commanders back!" Someone shouted from the wall. Slowly, the portcullis raised out of our way.

"Trust me, it wasn't always so impressive." I assured him. "It took a two dwarves, several teams of builders and a couple thousand sovereigns to get it to this stage."

"And where, pray tell, did this 'couple thousand sovereigns' come from?" Zevran's eyes gleamed.

"Looting, darkspawn, bandits, left overs from Howe selling elves and selling bits of dragons and monsters. Quite profitably, actually."

"You kept the money Howe received from selling elves?" I sensed no disgust in Zevran's voice, only slight disappointment.

"No." I said sternly as we walked through the gates. "I used it to repay the very few remaining elves, and I sent a very large portion of it to Alistair to rebuild the Denerim Alienage. You should see it, repairs are coming along quite nicely."

"That is good to hear _amico mio_. Now, I am tired. Good night. Or rather, day." Zevran waved to me and trotted off. I turned to where he was looking. Over the Waking Sea, I could see the first rays of light from the sun rise.

"Daybreak, just as I promised!" I called to Dorin and Sigrun.

"Alright Boss, you win." Sigrun held up her hands in mock defeat.

"Commander." Came Varel's grave voice.

"One moment." I held up a hand. Turning, I waved the farmer and his family closer. I also waved down two soldiers. When both groups reached me I gave the orders.

"You two will escort this family to Amaranthine. Make sure they make it to the Chantry." I told the soldiers. They saluted and stood to the side, waiting for the family.

"Oh thank you Commander! Dear, look at this! Escorted by the Silver Order!" I waved them goodbye and walked back to Varel. The blasted nickname for my soldiers had sprung up after people had seen them in silverite armour.

"Yes Seneschal?" I asked.

"The ambassadors and visiting dignitaries are awaiting." The older man motioned to the main Keep.

"Blast it, I'd hoped they'd have left by now." I groaned.

"Unfortunately not, Commander. They are quite intent on talking to you." A humourous twinkle shone in Varel's eyes.

"Let's get this over with." I marched off to the giant doors. The four guards saw us coming and quickly pulled them open for Varel and me. As we walked in, I tried to take note of who was here. Far too many people, and my helmet was constricting my vision. _Oh blast! _Hoping I wasn't showing panic, I began undoing the few screws that The Last hadn't broken. A wondrous idea given to me by a dwarf smith in Orzammar, the screws kept my helmet on while in battle more assuredly that any coif. I managed to get the heavy thing off just as I reached the arl's chair and plunked myself down.

"This session will now commence!" Varel shouted from his standing spot beside me. Quieter, he whispered the first man's name to me. "Garen, a freeholder and ex-soldier whose farm was destroyed during the Blight, wishes to join the Grey Wardens." I looked up at the man in question and he repeated everything Varel had just said.

"Go to the bunks. Find the Warden Nathaniel. Tell him I told him to test you." The farmer bowed and rushed from the hall.

"Next!" Varel shouted. A young woman, a healer by the looks of the medicinal salves and bandages she carried with her, came forwards.

"My arl, I was travelling nearby when I heard that you had suffered a wound to your arm and replaced it with a darkspawn limb. With your permission, I would like to examine it." I burst out laughing, a deep sound that filled the hall. The healer looked stunned. "My arl, this is no joke. If I do not-"

"Enough." I managed, tears forming in my eyes. "I assume you heard this rumour from a dwarf in Grey Warden armour, large axe, red hair?"

"Yes my arl."

"That is Senior Warden Oghren. He is drunk and wrong. My arm was broken, not replaced, and I had my own healers. Though I do thank you, and commend you on your actions." The healer looked surprised at my praise, bowed and left. I looked up at Varel.

"Find her, and recruit her for the men. They need a nonmagical healer." With that settled, I went back to the complaints. The next few were uninteresting, until we came to a tall, gaunt woman, a young man in Templar armour and a scowling elf.

"I do not know who they are. but they have papers from King Alistair." Varel whispered. This interested me. I leaned forwards in my chair, my face almost leaving the shadow I purposely had set up. The shadow covered the top half of my body when I sat, sufficiently covering my expressions.

"Warden-Commander." The woman and the young man knelt. The elf merely continued growling. Gareval, captain of my men, went for his sword, but a hard glare from Mistress Woolsey, standing next to him, stopped him. I looked back to the woman, now standing up with the Templar again.

"We are mages, sent by First Enchanter Irving and Knight-Commander Greagoir." The elf nearly spat. He was obviously not happy with whatever arrangement Irving was trying to make.

"We are here to join the Silver Order." The Templar called out. I looked at him, and he turned red.

"Have you taken your vows?" I interrogated him. "Have you taken lyrium?"

"Not yet Commander." He winced, most likely believing he had failed a test. He hadn't.

"Then why do you wear the armour?" I pushed further.

"I am here at the behest of Knight-Commander Greagoir, to protect the mages." The boy said proudly. An idealist.

"I assume you are here with the full authority of the Templar Order?" I asked. The boy nodded.

"It would seem Loghain's plans for our army have paid off." I whispered to Varel. The seneschal agreed and we both looked to the mages.

"You are permitted to try and join the Silver Order. Mages, you are to be tested by my Senior Warden Velanna, and the Templar will be tested by me. If you pass you will be considered artillery for the most part and will be paid in turn, and the Templar will serve as a lieutenant, watching over you." I commanded.

"What? You would have us not even be people!" The elf exclaimed. He was a spitfire, wasn't he?

"Perhaps I should consider you recruits, not even foot soldiers, and pay you as such." I glared at the youth.

"Ah. My apologies Commander." The elf said bashfully, with prodding from the older woman. They bowed to me, and I waved Gareval up.

"Take the mages to Velanna's quarters. Templar, stay here. I will test you soon." I gave Gareval and the boy their orders. My captain saluted and marched out, the mages. The Templar bowed and moved off to the side of the keep. The rest of my problems were as bland as could be. Two farmers arguing over who go paid, the one who broke the fence or the one who stole some wheat. An elf family who were found sleeping in an abandoned house. I solved most of the problems and sent the elves to Denerim. Then came the Temmerly's and the Orlesians. The Ox's family entered first, uninvited. Two large men and an angry old woman. The men resembled the bastard too much to be hired goons. And the old woman must be his mother, who promised retribution on me in her letter.

"Well, _murderer_, your time has come!" She shrieked at me as her men (sons?) drew their weapons. "We challenge you to a duel of honour and blood! In the name of my murdered son!"

"You cannot honestly expect the Commander to accept this ridiculousness!" Varel called out from beside me. He stepped forwards and waved to the guards, but I stood and waved them back. Picking up my helm, I glared at them through the eye slits.

"You want a fight? By all means, let me entertain you." I laughed at the old woman. I unslung my shield and drew Vigilance and stepped into the center of the hall, facing the two men. The nobles and commoners alike spread out, giving us quite a bit of room.

"Let us begin." I grinned. Even with the helmet, my head would be a big target. I hoped to use that to my advantage. With a cry of outrage, the woman pushed her men towards me. The bigger one, wielding a heavy axe, rushed up and tried a massive overhead swing. He was obviously untrained, as he when he reached back to slam down his axe he became unbalanced and stumbled right back into his fellow. I, not one to give up opportunity, stepped in and bashed the big one in the chest. He went down with a gasp and a crack. The second man tried to grab my shield and prevent me from blocking, but I merely pulled him in closer and gave him a good kick to the groin. Fight over.

"Seneschal." I called out.

"Yes Commander?"

"Take these men to a healer. I wish to know who they are. As for Lady Temmerly," I turned a harsh gaze on the old woman. "Take her to the dungeons. I will decide her fate another day." Varel issued the orders to some guards and they followed to the letter.

"This is not over!" She shrieked as she was led away. "My son will have vengeance!"

"No, he won't." I whispered. Sheathing my weapons, I marched back to my chair. Before I even made it around the fireplace I felt a hand on my shoulder. No one had tried to stop this person, so I knew it was not an enemy. So, I was rather surprised to see a masked Orlesian and a young girl, also masked, standing before me.

"And you are?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. The young girl giggled and bowed to me. The man offered a curt nod.

"My apologies Commander!" Varel said tiredly as he hurried to us. Raising his voice so the court could hear him. "Introducing the Lady Mirabelle de Montboisser, of Orlais. This is her uncle and guardian, Count Odo de Montboisser." Most people in the hall began muttering angrily, and I couldn't blame them. Orlesians, the old enemy, were now standing here.

"To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit, my Lady?" I addressed the girl. I knew this would piss off Odo, not being acknowledged. Good.

"Marriage, my lord." Her eyes shone behind the mask.

"_Soyez calme Mirabelle!_" The man, Odo, hissed. I retained enough knowledge of Orlesian to know he'd essentially told her to shut up. Odo turned to me and I could see his eyes burning.

"If you would be so kind, Commander," Odo said it slowly, as if he had never said the word 'commander' before. "We would like to sleep before we have an audience."

"Very well." I said. "Varel! Prepare two rooms and escort Lady Montboisser and her guardian to them."

"No! We will share a room!" Odo's voice blanched at the prospect of being separated from his ward. I grunted. Must not have a high opinion of us barbarians.

"Alright." I gave. Better to let him doom himself than insult an ambassador, if that was what he was. I stepped closer to Varel and whispered to the seneschal. "Make sure they're near the barracks. I want to be able to have them watched and detained quickly, if necessary." Varel said nothing, but gave me a light nod. As the Orlesians were all but marched out, I turned to my vassals.

"That will be enough for today. Goodbye." I said respectfully. I received a large bow from most, curt nods from the rest.

"Templar, wait." I called out as I saw the boy leaving. "Your name."

"Felkand, ser."

"Well Felkand, your test starts now." I grinned under my helm. I drew Vigilance and pointed it at the Templar in a challenging pose. "Begin!"


	3. Chapter 3

_[A/N: So, here's chapter 3! Six thousand words and 15 pages. Not impressive at all, I know. But here it is. Quick note: Foreign languages are in italics. Peace!]_

* * *

Chapter Three

* * *

"Parry!" I roared at the boy. His face laced with sweat, Felkand tried to obey. When I stabbed for his chest he brought up his greatsword and intercepted my blade. Vigilance was knocked away at an angle, creating an opening for Felkand to win the duel. Unfortunately for the Templar recruit, he was too timid to try and take it. But I was not the only one who noticed that.

"Ah, fer crying out loud!" Oghren barked from the sidelines. "Are you seriously considering this nughumper for your troops Val? I thought the Silver Order was for the best of the best!"

"It is Oghren. That's why we're here." I shot back. Unfortunately, he was right. While most people believed the Silver Order was the entirety of Amaranthine's soldiers, it wasn't. There was no way that all the men and women would be able to wear the heavy silverite armour, not to mention to harsh training I had instituted for them as well. Well, the mages in the Order didn't have to wear heavy armour, but that was different. Thus, I tried my best to personally test and train all the eligible candidates for the Order. I didn't care if they were looked down on. I didn't care if they were a mage. I only cared if they could stand. They would fight for the people of Amaranthine, and they would do a damn good job of it. I was even thinking of getting the Silver Order to integrate some of the better elven warriors in Ferelden. Speaking of the elves, I saw my opening in Felkand's concentration when one of the knife-fighters I had recruited into the Grey Wardens showed up. Belden was an elf from Highever who had escaped Howe's culls. He'd found his way to me after the Blight, and I let him join after he demonstrated his skill on a pair of highwaymen. Felkand was so surprised when a random elf suddenly appeared behind me he let his mouth gape for just a moment. But it was just a moment I needed.

"Ack!" Felkand cried out as Vigilance passed under his arm.

"You must pay attention!" I tried to drill it into the boy's mind.

"Yes ser." He whispered. "Focus only on my opponent."

"No!" I shook my head. "Never just your opponent. What if Belden had actually been trying to kill you? If you focus only on me, he would have no problem. And if you focus only on him, an actual enemy would have put their sword through you, not past you. Understand?"

"I- actually, I do. Thank you ser." Felkand smiled. I smiled back. The boy was finally starting to get it.

"Go have a rest. You deserve it." I clapped him on the back. Felkand stood there for a few moments before bowing heavily to me and scurrying off towards the barracks. Once he was out of sight I let my exhaustion show. I leaned forwards, propping my arms on my knees and panted heavily.

"He that good Commander?" Belden chuckled swaggering up to me.

"No. Well, not yet at least." I gasped. "Templars trained him well."

"Oh? Then I guess you've just let yourself get fat then? No other excuse." Belden waggled a finger.

"Hey! Shaddup elf!" Oghren shouted, taking a swig from his waterskin. "Val's day started with darkspawn, then travelling, then training! I think even he's gonna be tired by now!"

"Thank you Oghren." I stretched back and slowly walked over to the boxes a few men had set up as benches. Most had left now that the fight was over, but they hadn't moved their makeshift seats. I plunked myself down, wincing as my ass hit down on the hard metal of my armour.

"Ha!" Oghren guffawed as he saw my expression. He chuckled a little more before handing me his drink. I undid my helmet and let it drop of my head before accepting it with a deep gulp of dwarven alcohol. Blinking the tears from my eyes, I surveyed the battlefield. Felkand had panicked when I drew my sword and had stumbled out of the Keep and into the field, where most of the fight had taken place. The only other place we had gone into were the stables, which was why I was going to need Wade to hammer a hoof print out of my armour.

"Belden!" I waved the elf over.

"Aye Commander?" He asked as he strolled towards us.

"Why are you walking around in the middle of the night anyway?" I asked.

"Couldn't sleep." Belden shrugged. "Though I could ask you why you are training a Templar in the middle of the night."

"Felt like it." I shrugged back. "Could you find Velanna and Nate for me? Tell them to meet me at the Hall."

"Ah, I'm sorry Commander. I swore once to never take orders from a shem again." Belden smiled playfully.

"I am so sorry oh great Warden Belden." I grinned. "When it pleases your lordship, could I recommend a course of action that involves meeting two other Wardens and sending them on their way to me in the room with the large fire?"

"Of course. Thank you for asking." Belden waved over his head as he trotted away.

"How the sodding hell do you managed to stand all your Wardens?" Oghren asked incredulously, staring at Belden's receding back.

"It's simple really. Make them all your friend. Whether they want to or not." I slapped a hand on Oghren's shoulder. "Though I don't think most of them could stand to be near you too long, my friend."

"Sodding explanations." Oghren hissed into his drink. "Get on yer way Val, I'll see you tomorrow. I'm sodding tired."

"Good night Oghren." I watched the dwarf's receding form until he too disappeared into the dark. Picking myself up off the bench, I secured Vigilance in it's sheathe and headed back towards the Hall. I raised my eyebrow at the guard on duty as I walked past him standing next to an unlit lantern.

"Something seem wrong here soldier?" I asked nonchalantly. The man gave me a confused look before looking at the doused lantern and the torch in his hand. One plus one equals two, of course.

"Ah! Forgive me Commander!" He spluttered, quickly lighting the lantern.

"Good man. Once your replacement comes, make a quick run through the Keep and light all of the lanterns that went out." I gave him his orders.

"There are more ser?" He asked.

"I don't know. That will be your job to find out." I told him. He responded with a salute, crossing his right arm over his chest. I returned it and continued on. I passed by the kitchens, and from inside I could hear loud snoring as well as someone or something tearing into something fleshy.

"Solomon! Heel!" I called out. Sure enough, the massive brown-furred mabari came charging out to greet me.

"Are Cook's sausages really worth being chased with a cleaver?" I chuckled, kneeling down to get on-level with the dog. He barked happily, licking his lips greedily.

"Of course they are." I sighed. "Come on boy, let's go see Nate and Velanna." Solomon wagged his tail lively. The mabari had gotten used to Morrigan being mean to him outside, but sneaking him treats in camp. So when Solomon had encountered Velanna, he had immediately placed her in the position of Mean-Sometimes-Nice-Mostly mage. And Velanna had more than lived up to his expectations.

"MY SAUSAGES!" A very loud, very angry voice screamed from the kitchens. "MUTT! WHERE ARE YOU?" I blanched. I was not ready to face Cook's wrath right now, so I bolted. Solomon followed behind me, although he was a bit more joyful. The dog frolicked through the paths, tail wagging constantly.

"You are far too proud of that." I chastised him. He responded by letting his tongue sag out one side of his mouth.

"Ack! You are horrible!" I told him, rubbing his head. "Come on. You'll want to be in a good place to hide when Cook comes a-calling."

"Ser!" One of the guards for the hall cried out. "Good thing you're hear! Wardens Nathaniel and Velanna are here already ser, and may I say Warden Velanna does not look too happy?"

"You may." I told him. "I didn't call her here to be happy."

"You've got more guts than the entire Ferelden army ser." The other guard laughed.

"And an ego to go with it!" I shot at him. I enjoyed this, the talking and joking with my soldiers. My father had been grooming me for two things: To marry a girl of good standing so I'd still be important, or to become a leader in the army. I would have chosen the army every time, especially if it meant no arranged marriage to a girl like Habren Bryland. Although my father probably didn't want me to be fraternizing with common soldiers. I let the two guards open the doors for me and I strolled in, Solomon nearly bouncing next to me. Velanna and Nate stood around the map table with Varel, near the Arl's throne, which was really just a fancy chair. Surprisingly, Zevran stood off in the corner, spinning a dagger between his fingers.

"Thank you all for coming." I started as I circled the fire pit. Velanna gave me a sharp look, but Nathaniel looked alright with the situation.

"What do you need Commander?" Nate asked, turning to face me. I stood on one end of the map table and let Nate, Varel and Velanna find places on other sides.

"Well, as I'm sure you know we finally found The Last. With it's death, that's the last of the Disciples. We've killed a lot of darkspawn in the past year, and even more during the Blight. So I have a plan." I explained to them. The prospect of what I was saying apparently shook Velanna out of her angry trance. That, or Solomon rubbing himself like a giant cat against her leg. The Dalish kneeled down next to him and scratched his side.

"I'm sorry _Falon_, I did not bring you anything." Velanna whispered sadly to the mabari. He gave her a sad puppy look, ears folded against his head.

"I will give you three sausages tomorrow morning. I know you like them." She smiled. Solomon barked happily and trotted back to my side. When Velanna noticed both Nate and I watching her, she offered the best haughty look she could.

"I do not know what you are looking at." She shot at us. I grinned at her.

"Of course milady." I mock bowed. Velanna said nothing else, just leaned forward and placed her hands on the table.

"So what is your plan, Commander?" Nate interjected.

"Right." I shook my head, turning back to him. "So, we have Kal'Hirol not far from Vigil's Keep." I pointed to the surface entrance to the thaig on the map. Voldrik had made me these wonderful little figurines that represented a location. Kal'Hirol's was it's massive Deep Roads entrance. Vigil's Keep's was an extremely detailed smaller version of the fort itself. "The dwarves have sent an expeditionary force to retake it, seeing as how we've already cleared out the darkspawn from it."

"So you want us to help them rebuild?" Nate asked, leaning down to look at the location. He traced a finger along a road that was a straight shot between the two locations. "The roads are clear, so supplies and people could move quite easily."

"I was thinking about sending supplies, maybe even Voldrik. But no, that's not the main reason. With the Deep Roads access to Vigil's Keep closed off permanently, I was thinking of stationing a sizable force of Wardens and support troops at Kal'Hirol, the make regular incursions into darkspawn territory." I stopped for a breath. "Bhelen's already doing good work around Orzammar. We really should help out."

"That is, actually a good plan." Varel's eyes widened as he gaze over the map. "If we can clear the darkspawn out of Ferelden, and help the dwarves, we will not only secure our safety but also the gratitude of a powerful ally."

"My point exactly." I folded my arms over my chest. "All in favour?"

"Hey!" A masculine voice shouted from the entrance. A more feminine voice accompanied it.

"I told you they'd be here!"

"Yeah, you're right. Now shaddup and let's go." Another, deeper voice growled.

"Sigrun. Anders. Oghren. What are you doing here?"

"Well Boss, I found out you called Velanna and Nate in the middle of the night. So I wanted to check it out." The perky dwarf grinned as she almost bounced up to me.

"Belden?" I asked.

"Belden." Sigrun nodded.

"Belden!" I growled as I slammed my fist on the table.

"And I wanted to come too." Anders put in. The goofy smile I was so used to seeing on Alistair was now plastered on his face. "Keeping secrets Valtin?"

"Not really. I had every intention of telling you this tomorrow." I assured them.

"Then why the sodding hell didn't you do it now?" Oghren belched. He wiped his mouth futilely, simply scattering his spittle into the hairs of his beard.

"Because I needed strategic minds and people with connections. Also, you yourself did say you were sodding tired." I made room for the rest of my Senior Wardens.

"So what's the plan Boss?" Sigrun asked, staring down.

"Fine." I sighed. I pointed to Kal'Hirol again. "I will send a few Wardens to Kal'Hirol to establish a base for incursions into the Deep Roads. I want to send Nathaniel, you, Oghren and maybe Hal. You will meet with the dwarves being sent there and get us a forward camp there. For the next while, Wardens will attack the Deep Roads and push the 'spawn back." I leaned back, letting it sink in.

"Damn good! Take the fight to the bastards!" Oghren barked.

"That does not explain why you wanted me here." Velanna mumbled, hand on her chin. "I do not think your _shemlen _lords will appreciate an elven overlord."

"No, they won't." I winced. "I was going to leave Anders and Varel in charge. I had a different mission in mind for you."

"What is it Valtin?" Velanna asked. She was curious now.

"I'm sending you to the Brecilian Forest." I told her.

"Why?" Velanna looked down at the map and picked up the bronze Dalish archer figurine. Voldrik had asked if he should make a tree, but I told him that since Alistair had given the Dalish that stretch of land it should be a Dalish.

"Ferelden is going to be the start of a vision." I explained.

"I do not follow." Velanna crossed her arms under her breasts.

"I am going to make the world see elves as what they are."

"And what are they?" Velanna asked. She was starting to sound a little hostile. I raised my hands in surrender, hoping she wouldn't use that biting tongue of hers.

"People." I said. "Ferelden greatly respects the Wardens. It's only been a year since the Blight. We might have rebuilt, but we haven't forgotten. So if the Grey Wardens of Ferelden, the heroes of legend, have a large amount of Dalish, that might make people see them differently. They won't be bandits, or thieves. They will be what stories are made of."

"I-" Velanna started angrily. But she stopped herself, staring wide-eyed at me. "I like this idea. I did not expect something like this from a _she_– a human." I smiled at her. I really liked Velanna. She had many problems, and I tried to help. But she never really could trust humans, for personal reasons as well as cultural.

"Good." I smiled at my Wardens. "Now you know. If you want, you can go back to sleep."

"Sodding right." Oghren mumbled as he, Nate and Sigrun walked off to the barracks.

"You're seriously putting me in charge?" Anders asked incredulously as Velanna and Solomon danced away.

"Well, you and Varel." I shrugged.

"Of course." Anders clapped my shoulder. "Thanks for the trust Valtin. It's been a year and yet, still a surprise."

"Oh, don't worry. I've got a few more up my sleeve." I assured him.

"And what might those be?" Anders asked with the most comical raised eyebrow ever.

"You'll just have to wait and see." I waggled my fingers. "Shoo now. I'm tired."

"Come Warden." Varel called out. "I will find my scrolls and give you a lesson on management. If you are to be acting Commander, it cannot wait.

"Course it can't. Good night Val." I watched Anders as he left and Varel left.

"You are a man of many faces, _amico mio_." Zevran laughed. I jolted, twisting around and putting a hand on Vigilance's hilt.

"Damn it Zevran! Don't do that!" I hissed at the elf.

"Ah, my apologies. But, I have recently realized I have not told you why I am here."

"Yes you did." I pursed my lips. "You're returning from a mission Alistair sent you on. You don't need to justify yourself to me Zev." I told him.

"I did say that, didn't I." Zevran shrugged. "Not the entire truth."

"And what is?" I asked. This was getting a bit confusing.

"The mission is to retrieve you." Zevran explained. I blinked at him.

"And you didn't say that because . . .?" I rolled my hand slowly, demanding an answer.

"I forgot, honestly." Zevran averted his gaze.

"You forgot? Bah, it doesn't matter now." I covered my eyes with my hands. "To Denerim?"

"To Denerim." Zevran nodded.

"In the morning. I need sleep, and then I need to deal with the Orlesians."

"Of course. Alistair's only order was to get you to Denerim at least a day before the fall Landsmeet."

"Which is in five days. Or four, considering it's probably past midnight." I said.

"And with horses it takes but a few hours to reach Denerim. So you have much time to deal with your . . ." Zevran paused, as if searching for the right word. "Enemies, guests, victims?"

"Guests will do. For now." I growled. I hated the idea of Orlesians being able to sleep soundly in my fortress.

"Good!" Zevran beamed. "Well, now that that is dealt with, I shall sleep. You have a good night Val."

"You too Zev." I whispered as the assassin stalked away. I stumbled through the door to my rooms, off to the right of the Arl's chair. Thankfully, I hadn't felt the need most nobles seemed to have to make their rooms as high up as possible. Mine were literally just off of the Great Hall. I went to my armour rack and slid off my gear, piece by piece. Gauntlets hit the ground with an echoing clank as I unbuckled my chestplate. I unclipped the greaves from my legs and set them down. It was too late and I was too tired to properly organize my armour, so I left it leaning against the rack. My belt, sword and scabbard were set next to the bed, and I fell face first down.

"Finally." I groaned as I felt the wonderful pull of slumber take over. What came next wasn't so wonderful.

* * *

Velanna was sick of this _shemlen_. He was from somewhere Nathaniel had called 'Orlais', and from what Velanna had gathered, the people of Ferelden hated Orlais. And from this old man's behavior, Velanna was starting to hate him for more than her usual dislike of _shemlen_.

"I demand zhat he show heemself!" The man screeched. Wasn't it only old hags that were supposed to make that noise? Velanna rubbed her sensitive ears, wishing she could set this fool aflame. Although his strange pronunciations of the common tongue was amusing

"You are in no position to demand anything. Besides, the Warden-Commander has had a straining few days. He will be ready soon.

"Not soon! Now!" The Orlesian continued. The younger female _shemlen_ tried to calm him as he shook his fist at Nathaniel.

"_S'il vous plaît ne pas l'oncle! Ces gens ne cherchent pas très gentil à vous._" She spoke calmly, though she had a small amount of fear in her eyes. As she well should, Velanna thought. Nathaniel and the _shemlen _argued further in hushed tones before Nathaniel backed away, throwing his hands in the air with disgust.

"Velanna." Nathaniel said softly as he neared her.

"Yes Nathaniel?" Velanna asked abruptly. She didn't mean to, but she was getting very angry at the _shemlen_ from Orlais. What was that word Oghren kept using? Ah, yes. She was pissed at him.

"I need you to-" Nathaniel started.

"Burn that _shemlen_ to a crisp?" Velanna asked hopefully.

"Unfortunately, no." Nathaniel smiled softly "That would create an international incident and we would- Never mind" Nathaniel stopped himself as he saw her expression. "Could you go find Valtin?" He should be here."

"Why have you not done this?" Velanna narrowed her eyes at her fellow Warden.

"I was hoping I could handle this Orlesian, but it didn't work out." Nathaniel shrugged apologetically. "He refuses to tell his business to anyone except Valtin."

"Very well." Velanna sighed. She stalked away in the most angry way she could, but she was truly happy to be away from the shrieking _shemlen_. Velanna headed to Valtin's door and rapped on it, hard. No answer.

"Valtin?" Velanna called out, not loud enough for the rest of the hall to hear. This was the one human she cared for, so she was trying to be polite. Her only answer was a pained grunt.

"Valtin?" Velanna hissed, laying her ear against the door. Elves had much better hearing than humans, and Velanna used this frequently to her advantage.

"Noooo . . . killlll . . . Morrigan," She heard a male voice gasp out. Then came the sound of flesh hitting metal.

"Valtin!" Velanna twisted on the doorknob. Surprisingly, it wasn't locked. Velanna rushed in, wielding her staff and looking for an enemy. But the room was empty. Well, empty except from Valtin, who lay on his bed. His eyes were screwed shut and sweat beaded his face. His lips moved, forming words but not making sound.

"Commander?" Velanna asked, inching closer to Valtin. Velanna gazed his bed.

"What did you do?" She whispered to the sleeping man, kneeling down and examining the backboard of his bed. There was a thing but long smear of blood along it. Velanna's eyes shot to Valtin, whose clenched fist had blood covered nails. Valtin's other arm had three long scratches running along it. Velanna slowly reached out, trying to hold the arm still so she could check it over. Before she could make contact, Valtin bolted upright. His eyes gleaming with madness, he wrapped a hand around her throat. He pulled back in a punch.

"Valtin!" Velanna gasped.

"Velanna? What . . . what is happening?" Valtin asked, his tone horrified. He let go of her gently and slid to the other side of the bed.

"You cried out. Something about killing and someone named," Velanna paused, searching for the name. "Morgan? No, Morrigan."

"I- No, it doesn't matter." Valtin leaned on his knees. "I am so sorry. I didn't mean to attack you."

"It matters little." Velanna sniffed. "Now, please come out into the hall and rid us of the annoying _shemlen_."

"Ah. The Orlesian. Of course." Valtin groaned. He took a few steps to a chair and threw on the shirt laying across it.

"I'll be right out." He promised her. He'd now started to pull on his armour, starting with the boots. "Again, really sorry."

"You'd better." Velanna glared at Valtin's sheepish smile. "If not, I will pull him deep into the earth."

"I fully believe you." Valtin chuckled. He buckled on his, what were they called? Oh yes, greaves.

"Erhm, _excusez-moi_?" A small voice squeaked behind Velanna. Turning, she saw a young elven woman. She wore her hair up in a bun and was wearing a shabby set of _shemlen_ clothing.

"Who are you?" Velanna asked. She tilted her head and looked the elf up and down.

"I am no one, madame. My lady has sent me to find Lord Cousland."

"Well, you found him." Valtin grunted. He'd quickly pulled on his chestplate and was in the process of gauntlets.

"My lady would also like to know where the servants quarters are. She was most disappointed I was forced to sleep on the floor." The elf continued. She shared the accent of the shrieking _shemlen_.

"Wait. You are a servant?" Velanna hissed.

"Why yes madame. Do you know where the quarters are?" The servant continued, ignoring the glare.

"There isn't one." Valtin grunted. He had his helmet under his arm, his sword at his hip and his shield on his back.

"Are Fereldans truly so barbaric that they make servants sleep in barns?" The elf asked, horrified.

"I have no idea where you got that idea." Valtin stared at her, bewilderment etched onto his face. "And there are no servants quarters because there are no servants!"

"No servants?" The elf cried out. "What if you want food? Or someone to wash your clothing?" Velanna felt anger start to take over.

"My arling pays cooks for food. And if my warriors want to have their smalls washed, they damn well do it themselves!" Valtin was getting angry now. "Leave. Tell your lady it will be a few minutes."

"Yes monsieur!" The elf rushed out as fast as possible.

"Why was that so upsetting?" Velanna asked. She was seething too of course, but she had personal reasons.

"Because the Orlesians treat elves like slaves in every way but name. And they treated Fereldans the same. We may be hailed as barbarians by the rest of Thedas, but I won't see another put down that way." Valtin stared at her hard. "Give me a few moments."

"Alright." Velanna saluted him and left.

* * *

Zevran watched the female Dalish, Velanna she was called, march out of Valtin's room. She looked pissed. Never refusing a challenge, he sidled up to her as she took her place at the head of the Hall.

"So, where did Valtin find a woman as beautiful and luscious as you?" Zevran waggled his eyebrows at the Dalish when she looked at him. She seemed taken aback by his words.

"Luscious? Is that an insult, flat-ear?" She growled to him.

"Oh ho ho! No, no it never is!" Zevran laughed. "Although if you do not like it, I could use 'deadly sex goddess'. I have no doubt you could be exactly that."

"Shut up." She said, hand reaching for her staff.

"Of course my dear. I wouldn't think of bothering someone as-"

"Shut. Up." Velanna hissed. She was staring at something. What? Zevran followed her gaze, finding it trailing a young elf maid weaving her way to the crowd to the Orlesian, Mirabelle. A much better example of the beauty of Orlais than her guardian Odo. Though Valtin might not agree.

"Ah. I understand." Zevran whispered to the beautiful Dalish.

"Understand what?" She snapped.

"You spoke with a serf." Zevran smiled lazily.

"A what?" Velanna actually looked at him.

"You know of the freeholders of Ferelden? Those strong-willed farmers who didn't let themselves be conquered?" Zevran asked.

"I- Yes, Valtin has explained freeholders once." Velanna admitted.

"Well, in Orlais, peasants are the opposite. Both humans and elves are, for all intents and purposes, slaves in all but name."

"Valtin said the same thing." Velanna said softly.

"I bet he did. Oh look, here comes our fearless leader now." Zevran watched the large man stomp out. Some might call it a soldier's gait, but Valtin was a warrior plain and simple.

"Finally." Velanna sighed.

"I hear he treats politics the same way he treats darkspawn." Zevran whispered.

"How's that?" Velanna shot back.

"With a sword in his hand and an army at his back." Zevran chuckled.

"That would solve many problems before they begin." Velanna agreed thoughtfully.

"Count Odo!" Valtin roared as he took his seat. Well, more like shouted, but with his size and imposing armour he might as well have sicced a dragon on the poor man.

"Enfin!" Odo sighed. He somehow managed to stand dignified in front of Valtin's throne while surrounded by Grey Wardens and soldiers of Valtin's Silver Order. He had also managed to ignore the jeers and hisses from the elven Wardens, which was impressive for an Orlesian.

"So tell me, why a Count of Orlais would bring his ward to Amaranthine" Valtin asked, his gaze scanning both Orlesians. The girl apparently hadn't even realized Valtin had arrived. She was busy looking at her reflection in the armour of a very uncomfortable looking Silver Knight.

"Mirabelle!" Odo hissed.

"_Hein_?" She asked. Then she noticed Valtin, sitting in all his dark glory. "Oh!" She rushed to stand next to her uncle.

"_Bon commandant du matin._" She curtsied.

"I have yet to see whether or not this morning will be good, milady." Valtin inclined his head. The girl looked stunned. She was probably already used to the intricacies of her home's courts.

"Commander, in a recent visit to ze . . . palace in Denerim, I had a long conversation with the good Arl Eamon." Odo began. Zevran noticed his look of disgust as he said palace. Zevran also noticed that Valtin noticed it as well.

"Ze good Arl told me, in his own words, zhat ze King Alistair has been trying to convince ze Arl Valtin to marry. So I brought zis news to ze Empress. So, with her consent, all ze power of Orlais, and in ze name of Empress Celene, we offer Mirabelle de Montboisser's hand in marriage. We hope zis will form a great alliance between the noble families de Montboisser and Cousland." The count took a deep breath, apparently not used to speeches.

"_Je disais que je serais d'accord une fois que je l'ai vu, mon oncle._" Mirabelle said, a goofy smile plastered on her face. "_Et je dois dire , il semble assez robuste._" Zevran quickly did the translations in his mind. Mirabelle had said she would agree to marriage once she saw Valtin, and now that she saw him she thought he looked very rugged.

"_Vos cicatrices doivent provenir de combats éclatants, mon Arl._" Mirabelle continued.

"Aye, mighty battles indeed." Valtin agreed, touching the long scar that had turned his right eye milky white. Zevran chuckled. The girl was apparently attracted to warriors, and with Valtin's track record, there wasn't a better one. He had one very long and deep scar that ruined his eye, but he also had many more that would never go away.

"One moment milady." Valtin interrupted the girl. "If you can, I would appreciate it if you could speak Fereldan." _Ah_, Zevran thought. _He has finally noticed his soldier's confusion_. He rose from his throne and strolled up to Odo. "But why does the Empress think it this will happen?"

"_Excusez-moi_?" Odo gaped.

"I have not, in an entire year, asked a woman to marry. Not a Fereldan, Nevarran nor Marcher. Why would I accept an Orlesian proposal?" Valtin glared into the man's eyes before marching up to Mirabelle. She now looked very worried, standing next to a man who she barely came up to his chest.

"Have I done something wrong?" She asked. Her Fereldan was actually quite good.

"No." Valtin shook his head. "But I have my teachings. And there is about as much love between me and Orlesians as there is between Qunari and Tevinter."

"Ah." Mirabelle said simply.

"You cannot do zis!" Odo began shrieking again.

"Damn it." Zevran whispered. The Silver Knight to his right shot him an understanding look.

"Here." He whispered, handing Zevran a two cotton balls. The Knight was already sliding a pair into his own ears.

"My thanks, friend." Zevran inclined his head. He fiddled with the balls before sliding them into his pouch. He might need them later.

"Pray tell why I cannot say no to a marriage proposal?" Valtin's eyes narrowed.

"It was arranged! Eamon promised-"

"Eamon has no reign over me!" Valtin roared. Odo blanched and backed away. As did Mirabelle, but she did so to the safety of a few Wardens. Odo regained his composure quickly.

"Unacceptable! You stupid dog lord! You should know to not growl at your betters!" Odo slid off his glove and did a very womanly step towards Valtin. The Orlesian pulled back his arm and slapped his glove across Valtin's cheek. Valtin didn't even flinch.

"Is that it?" Valtin asked incredulously. Odo was too enraged with that reaction to see what Zevran saw. Valtin was slowly taking off his gauntlet.

"Stupid Fereldan." Odo growled. Then he looked down at Valtin's hands. Valtin now held his black gauntlet in his hands in the same position Odo had held his glove.

"Merde." Odo managed before Valtin cracked him in the temple with the gauntlet. Odo went down like a sack of potatoes, eyes rolling back into his head. Valtin turned to two soldiers.

"Get him out of Ferelden." He growled. They snapped a salute, arms pounding on their chests.

"You must forgive me milady." Valtin said, turning to Mirabelle. "It was not my intention for this to end so badly." He apologized.

"It is no problem Arl Valtin." She said shakily. "My uncle is a very bad man. It was nice to see him, how do you say, taken down a peg."

"Aye, we do say that." Valtin smiled at her. "I will arrange for a ship to take you back to Val Royeaux."

"You are a most gracious host my lord." Mirabelle curtsied. "I also want you to know, not all Orlesians see Fereldans as dogs. Some of us wish to reconcile our, er, trans . . . trans . . .?"

"Transgressions." Valtin supplied. Mirabelle smiled sheepishly.

"Yes, that. Good day Arl Valtin. It is a shame you did not agree." Mirabelle held herself as high as possible, following behind the two Silver Knights. She was flanked by two Orlesian soldiers that Zevran had not noticed. Once she left the hall Valtin sighed openly.

"Thank the gods that's over." He held a hand over his face. Surprisingly, a long low laugh came from between his fingers. It quickly turned to giggling.

"Did you see the count's face? Ha!" Valtin laughed maniacally. "We should invite more indignant Orlesians! I'm ready to slap them all!"

"It was amusing Commander." The gaunt man, Howe, smiled. Most of the Wardens and soldiers were joining Valtin in making fun of the count. "But I do believe we have business."

"Yes, of course." Valtin breathed heavily. He stood tall and held up a hand, calling for attention. "As of right now, Nathaniel Howe, you are Warden-Constable of Ferelden."

"What?" The man's mouth gaped. Whispers broke out among the Wardens.

"I go away far too often. I need someone to watch the holdings. You know them and the nobles. You are the best man for the job. I'm just making it official." Valtin shrugged. "Speaking of which, I need to go to Denerim. Remember the plan."

"Wait. You're leaving? You just got back!" Howe exclaimed. But an amused look from Valtin silenced him. "

Yes Commander." Howe said. He still looked surprised, but a slight curve in the edges of his mouth betrayed the joy he felt. Zevran grinned to himself. This man must not have expected anything from Valtin, seeing as how Rendon Howe had ravaged the Cousland family. But Valtin was man of many surprises. Zevran noticed Valtin heading his way, so he shook himself mentally and started paying attention again.

"Are you ready Zev?" Valtin asked.

"Of course _amico mio_. But may I make one small suggestion?" Zevran asked back, raising his eyebrows.

"Sure. What is it?"

"Your Warden Velanna is going to the Brecilian, correct? Let her come with us. It will make the trip easier. After all, the more the merrier!" Zevran went on, listing his reasons for wanting the buxom woman to accompany them.

"Alright! Alright." Valtin raised his hands in surrender. "Velanna!" He called out. The elven Warden perked up and strolled over.

"Yes _lethallin?_" She asked.

"You're leaving early. Get packed up, we're heading out in an hour."


End file.
